


I’ll follow you (home) anywhere you lead me

by floren8



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, M/M, Magic Revealed, Pining, Season/Series 05, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floren8/pseuds/floren8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gone were the days the King had thought his best friend an open book. He knew better now. He knew Merlin carried the weight of something so heavy that it managed to crush everything else. Arthur wanted desperately to help him carry it. And it pained him to see someone else take his place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’ll follow you (home) anywhere you lead me

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory reincarnation fix-it, with some merdred and merwaine throw in.

Merlin had changed over the years, not something too noticeable for most, but glaringly obvious for Arthur. The idiot was always around, only a step away in case his King needed anything. So, of course Arthur would notice the downward tilt of his lips, the tired bags under his eyes and his forced smiles.

He noticed all those things. But what got to him the most were his eyes: no longer bright blue with mischief but dulled with a darkness Arthur could not understand. He wished he could. Something had clearly happened to cheat his friend of his happiness and no matter how much he tried Arthur could not pinpoint it. Asking was no use either, gone were the days the King had thought his best friend an open book.

He knew better now. He knew Merlin carried the weight of something so heavy that it managed to crush everything else. Arthur wanted desperately to help him carry it.

His own heart felt heavy, with that same desperation, whenever he saw them together.

It wasn’t anything obvious, and maybe not even fully acknowledged between themselves yet, but Arthur could _see_ it. The way they looked at each other with such understanding baffled him. And angered him. How could this _boy_ Merlin barely knew share his secrets when even Arthur couldn’t?

He couldn’t imagine what characteristic of the knight drew Merlin’s eyes to him, what silent words were exchanged with each look, and it drove him mad.

So he asked some more, trying to phrase his questions in a way he knew Merlin would answer. Questions that wouldn’t go as deep as Arthur wanted, but they were better than nothing.

“What do you think of young Mordred?”

“He’s… making progress.”

Merlin’s answer confused him. He knew that by pressing he would only make his friend close up, but his words had been so carefully picked, so carefully blank that there was no way Arthur could not. He pressed in that special way that always had Merlin answering his _King_.

“He has all the makings of a fine knight, don’t you think?”

“There are many fine knights in Camelot.”

Merlin avoided the question with a _non sequitur_ , making Arthur frown. That was… unexpected. Did Merlin really think he couldn’t see the looks between them?

“Yes, but if I’m not mistaken he’ll be one of the finest. And I’m determined he’ll receive nothing but encouragement from me.”

Right. As if Arthur would ever let his personal feelings cloud his battle judgment. He couldn’t exclude the knight simply because he didn’t like the looks said knight exchanged with his manservant. It would also be unfair, since Gwaine was one of his closest knights and Arthur knew all too well the meaning of that helpless expression he always got around Merlin.

But Merlin didn’t open himself to him, his smile was just as guarded and his eyes just as clouded whenever he was around Gwaine. He was positive his best friend was oblivious to the fact Gwaine would never even look at another tavern or another woman again if only Merlin were to ask.

Arthur could sympathize; he simply couldn’t be seen pining over his manservant like that. The thoughtful way Guinevere looked between them left him unsettled, but she knew him well enough not to mention it first.

He tried a different strategy then, a less direct one. He found himself spending more time with his youngest knight, favoring him even. He was a good kid, too earnest and naïve perhaps, but with potential. He saw nothing outstanding there to explain how he managed to catch Merlin’s attention so completely.

Or what Arthur could do to coach those same looks out of him.

What baffled Arthur even more was that Merlin’s words and eyes told different stories. While in words he dismissed the young knight, never praising him and frowning whenever Arthur did, his eyes tracked his every move, and Arthur had caught him staring at a door the knight had just disappeared through more than once.

There was something there, Arthur knew. He just didn’t know its current shape: friendship, confidant, lover? Nothing, no tell-tale reaction could be gotten from either of them that could point to a specific one and disregard all the others. Arthur earned to know.

“I do believe you’ve grown fond of him.”

Was what Guinevere told him about his youngest knight, and while she wasn’t wrong, there was a sharp edge to his fondness that was undeniable. Arthur envied him. All the boy had done was walk back into their lives uninvited and steal Merlin’s gaze for himself. How? When Arthur had spent years believing it would always be his alone?

Even Gwaine started noticing it, and his helplessness took an incredulous air at first, then a resigned one. Gwaine accepted that Merlin’s attention had shifted from being just Arthur’s to encompass the young knight while skipping him entirely. Arthur felt for him a bit.

Merlin only seemed to withdraw more as time went on, leaving Arthur as helpless as Gwaine to fix it.

Later, when the boy betrayed him, betrayed them; Arthur was more worried about Merlin’s reaction than anything else. There was also a voice, in the back of his head, that longed to take his friend by the shoulders and shake him. Tell him: _your confidant has deserted you. your lover has felt you behind._ and _your friend will never come back._ But he could see the pain in Merlin’s eyes, the guilt he could not understand, and knew he would never twist the dagger Mordred had stabbed him with.

Arthur would understand eventually, when it was already too late to do anything about it. Merlin would open himself to him desperately, with such a fear of his disapproval that he had to look away. His immediate reaction was denial of course, but when confirmation took the shape of a dragon before his eyes his prejudice got the better of him and he pushed away the person he loved most.

So, that was it then. The warlock and the Druid sorcerer. Kin. Did they sate their loneliness together? Did Mordred help him carry the weight of keeping such a treasonous secret from his King? Did he do it with his lips and his hands? With his cock?

And for the first time Arthur permitted himself to think what _he_ could have done. How he could have taken their friendship, which had always skirted the edge of more, across that line. How he could have held Merlin close and cherished him. Help him use his power for good and build something incredible together. How he hadn’t done any of those things and now never would. And every look and touch reminded him of his wasted opportunities.

But there was one last thing he could do for this man that had always followed him into danger with little care for his own safety, who had saved him so many times he couldn’t begin to count. Merlin stayed by his side even though it might mean his death. And made Arthur love him by begin the most incorrigible, clumsy, loyal idiot to ever walk this earth.

“Thank you.”

*

The cold water lapped at his sides, making his chainmail even heavier, but Arthur didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Not when those blue eyes were staring at him, wide and disbelieving and screaming: _finally_. He welcomed the extra weight of that skinny frame against his, of those arms around his shoulders. _So that’s what being alive feels like_. And when Merlin sobbed against his chest Arthur was powerless to do anything but kiss him. Kiss his fears and his sadness and his loneliness away.

There was no one he wished to burden with waiting for him, but the only one he could imagine growing old with was Merlin. And this time they would.

**Author's Note:**

> Also on my [livejournal](http://floren8.livejournal.com/17750.html).


End file.
